Thranduil, The Narrator
by Frida VI
Summary: "It's not fair! I am the king of Mirkwood! I am the king of all kings! They only mention about me three times! Can you believe that! Three! They don't even tell my name in the story! The Elven king, yeah the Elven king! What a shame!" Thranduil started complaining. Elrond sipped his wine slowly while listening to Thranduil's tirade.


"It's not fair! I am the king of Mirkwood! I am the king of all kings! They only mention about me three times! Can you believe that! Three! They don't even tell my name in the story! The Elven King, yeah the Elven king! What a shame!" Thranduil started complaining. Elrond sipped his wine slowly while listening to Thranduil's tirade.

After finishing the red book of Westmarch written by Bilbo and Frodo, they both realized how little part they took in the story.

"I couldn't agree more, Your Majesty." Elrond sighed.

"They still call you 'Elrond'! Where is my name! Where!" Shouted Thranduil. He started crying like a baby.

"You are not the only one who disappointed with this book. We are both minor characters." Elrond reminded Thranduil. He called the servant to bring them more wine.

"It's not fair! It's not fair at all!" Swept his tear with a silver handkerchief, Thranduil tried to pull himself together.

"Why don't we write our own stories so that we can become the main characters?" Elrond suggested.

"You have no skill in writing."

"Fine. I let you write 'our' stories then." Elrond started to piss off.

They went to Thranduil's study room and had spent the entirely afternoon trying to come up with a plot.

"It was dark and stormy night. Ae! What a cliché!"

Thranduil threw away his work in the bin once more.

Elrond couldn't restrain himself from laughing. He thought Thranduil's writing was terrible.

"What, you little midget! You just laugh at me? Beware of my wrath. I should send you down to the dungeon if you dare to mock at me again!"

As everybody knows, Elrond himself was not a midget. He was slightly shorter than Thranduil.

King Thranduil always teased him about his height by labeling him as a midget.

"I do not dare. Your Majesty." Elrond replied.

"What do you think about my work?"

"I think your writing is probably worse than mine." Elrond criticized.

"Don't you dare give me a harsh comment! I am the most talented writer in this Universe!"

"But you just ask me to give my opinion."

"Very well, I might say that, but from now on keep your mouth shut. I cannot concentrate if you keep talking. Understood? Thranduil replied furiously.

"Let's continue to write." Waving his hand, Elrond was too tired for another argument.

"Should I use the first person to tell the story is it going to be all right?" Thranduil asked again.

"Why not?"

"Well, if I speak highly of myself in this book, is it going to make me look bad? They might thing this guy is so narcissist. Stick with the third person then, telling it from the point of view of the narrator. Who's going to be my narrator then…Ae! You! Midget! Can I borrow your name? You don't have to write it."

"My Lord, I am not worthy to be in a page of the history of Mirkwood" Replied reluctantly, Elrond grew tired of Thranduil's childish writing skill. He didn't want to be mention in the book anymore.

"What? Who said I want to write a history book? If I want one, I will hire a historian to write it for me. It just something I do to kill time.

"So let the narrator be invisible. Like a ghost camouflages in the dark. No one can see him, but he can see everyone." Elrond suggested

"That's a very good idea. I should appoint you to become my right hand from now.

You will be a minor character in my story. If you are not allowed me to put your name in the story, then I will just call you…the midget, all right? I might mention your name two or three times from now on in the book. Don't expect anything much. You are not the main character. Know your place! Your duty as a minor character is just to fulfill my story as a background. The character that nobody cares! The main character, which is, I, will lead the story."

Elrond nodded. He drank too much wine to stay fully conscious.

"Where should I start?" Thranduil found it was hard to tell the story again. The words just stumble in his head.

"Ae! I will write that I had killed Sauron before that little toddler reached Mordor gate then."

"But you didn't kill Sauron." Elrond sighed.

"Who cares! I am Thranduil, the Great! The readers should believe whatever I say."

"If you write like that then, you will become an unreliable narrator." Elrond commented.

"How come you said that? What's wrong with my writing?"

"If you compromise the truth then you are not credible therefore you are an unreliable narrator. Who is going to believe you? Speak the truth, as it is, and let the reader judge for themselves." Elrond told him straightly.

"The truth? What is the truth? There has no singular truth in this World. It depends on the perspective of individuals.

The truth is subjective. Don't you dare to say that you know what the truth is!" Thranduil was upset.

"Then let starts the story like the king is old and lonely. He is delusional and grumpy. Wow! That sounds like a poem." Elrond mocked at Thranduil.

"I should cut your head off!"

"Whatever, I need to go to bed now. I let you finish the story by yourself" Slowly Elrond got up. He filled up Thranduil's glass with wine for the last time.

"Drink this and keep writing."

The next morning, Elrond received a draft of the story from Thranduil. The first chapter wrote:

'Thranduil is the most magnificent king on Earth. Not only he is the most beautiful Elf; but also the wisest among them. Ps. This book was written by Lord Elrond.'

Elrond sighed. Perhaps he should have more wine to finish reading.


End file.
